The Spear and the Demon
by thebakawolf
Summary: A fearsome spear wielder meets the demon of the sand, a friendship for the greater good? Or two killing machines ready for war?- Rated M for later blood and carnage.


**I do not own the rights to Naruto.** There I said it.

Welcome and thank you for clicking your way here, please enjoy my story.

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><p><strong>He has a name.<strong>

Hot arid air lazily blew through the desert town, and the sun's presence, high in the middle of the sky, bore down on to the townsfolk. Even the clay structures that dominated the town could not completely protect against the dry heat. Yet the desert natives went on with their daily lives as usual. Hard-faced with sun kissed skin, the people were in their element in the hostile environment.

So the town's dusty streets flowed with people and business. And as the adults worked the children played. They ran around playing games that were made up moments before, where winning just meant having fun. Young enthusiasm and energy fueled them as they played through the heat unaffected.

A few kids, in the playground, were currently running around passing a ball. They held smiles in their eyes as they laughed and played, all the while a pair of eyes, just as young, watched. However, the owner of these eyes felt no laughter bubbling inside him. A young boy of five sat alone on a secluded swing set, his eyes continued to watch the children as his forehead would wrinkle in thought. His appearance was different than the other children, he had pale skin seemingly untouched by the sun, his hair was a blood red, and his bright sea foam eyes had black rings from insomnia. His looks, at least that is what the boy thought, is why no one wanted to play with him.

Again his eyebrowless forehead wrinkled as he thought. Maybe his looks just scare the others, so if he tries to talk with them surely they will see he is just like them. Right?

A smile full of hope replaced the scowl that had begun to form on his face as the little boy left the lonely swing set. His short legs felt weak as he approached the playing children, nervous and scared of rejection. They did not notice him at first for the swing set had been in a shaded area and so was the spot the he was standing in, but that was okay he wanted to be ready. His tiny heart fluttered with racing emotions as he gathered his courage to step out of the shade and to approach his peers.

However, he never had the chance, for the ball the children had been playing with had accidently been sent his way. It was like a gift from the heavens as the ball came to a stop at his feet. Certainly this was a sign, right?

The little boy not wanting to lose this chance carefully picked up the ball and walked to the group. His eyes slowly left from looking at the ball in his hands to the children in front of him. They had looks of confusion and curiosity, this was good, the boy thought, they are not shunning him with the normal hate filled glares. Even though he felt like adding a 'yet' to his last thought, he pushed it aside and spoke.

"C-can I play?" His voice came out timidly with a sort of squeak. As if the act of speaking was uncommon to him.

The children continued to stare as the boy wiggled in their gazes. But then it was not only them who were watching. Some adults had spotted the boy going towards the children and were watching as well. The adults observed him cautiously suspicious of what the 'demon child' would do. Then, when he spoke, they all tensed up. Play? IT does not play, IT only causes trouble, and if IT is not watched IT can kill.

A frenzy of sorts is what the little boy saw moments after his question. Parents franticly called to their children or just ran and grabbed them to take them away from his presence. Soon everyone had left and the little boy stood alone on the playground. Those that lived close by could be seen being scolded by parents and then strongly embraced, couples happy that their children are alive. These exchanges were all followed by the glares sent to the little boy.

He gasped to hold back the tears. Why? Why had it ended up like this? He was supposed to just talk to them, but - he furiously wiped at his eyes to catch his tears – everybody just hates him. This thought brought a feeling of cold dread gripping his chest, and he no longer tried to hold back or hide his tears as he openly sobbed. He needed to get away, away from this empty playground and those mean eyes.

The boy started running, as quickly as his legs would take him. In the streets people scurried away from his path, some even throwing themselves out of the way. A whimper of pain left him, just stop it! Fresh tears blurred his vision as another wave of sadness hit him. These people why won't they stop?

The boy ran faster and faster still until his legs gave out. He fell to the ground, but pulled himself to sit up against a nearby side of a building. Hiccupping and still trapped within his inner turmoil the boy sat there crying.

After a while he calmed down and felt the absence of something. He looked up to find himself alone, in a more literal sense, as he had driven his frantic self to the ruined part of the town. The structures uninhabited and falling apart were long ago abandoned from a terrible storm. And no one was here; no one was here to be mean to him.

At first he was frightened, it was getting late and the shadows cast from the buildings in their various states of ruin seemed like the imaginative monsters that plagued all young children. The boy whimpered and hugged his knees to his chest as he cradled himself. He kept his face in his arms with his eyes pressed shut. Any moment now he knew he would be attacked, for his fear of the dark seemed to be a tangible monster.

He waited and he waited some more, and then the sun was gone and its glowing brother the moon climbed the skies. The boy was becoming curious now, why were the monsters not attacking? He let out a shaky breath from his earlier crying and looked up.

The orange and red shades of color that dominated the landscape during the day now became pale blues and whites from the moons eerie glow. The sniffling child stood up and breathed evenly as he collected himself and as he studied his surroundings.

Dust swirled in the wind, and the only thing he could hear was his breathing. The buildings had darker shadows but the boy felt less afraid. 'It's night time and there are many shadows around so if there _were_ any monsters they would have already gotten him.' This sudden conclusion brought a smile to the boys face along with great relief.

Soft laughter stemmed from his smile as his previous fears melted away, and his young voice echoed off into the distance. Then his mirth left him as quick as it came, for his loneliness once again became very apparent.

His young innocent mind tried to wrap itself around the townspeople's actions towards him. Whatever did he do to deserve such punishment? Did he break an important rule or something? He scoured his memories for any violation, but found none.

The boy was at a loss at what his great misdeed could have been. A sigh fell from his lips as despair began to set in again. So caught up in his inner pain that when a loud creak from a nearby building the boy's heart leaped into his throat as he was ripped from his thoughts.

He braced himself, for maybe the sound was from one of the shadow monsters. Minutes passed by as the boy scarcely breathed, then again he heard the creaking sound. It came from the building that stood across from him.

A bead of sweat went down his neck and back as he tried to gulp with a dry mouth. His heart beat pounded in his ears and the little boy's knees shook. The boy eyed the doorless opening and the windows of the building, expecting the monsters from his childish fears to come from there. Again the creaking sound came from the building, surely this was his end?

Time went by as his muscles began to cramp from his tense posture, and his eyes became sore from straining to see a glimpse into the building.

While before his fear had made him wait the young impulsive part of the boy wanted to know the source of the sound.[1] Slowly the boy made his way to the doorless entrance of the building trying to make his footsteps quiet. Pressing himself against the outside wall the boy braved himself to peek into the darkness.

The inside had rays of moonlight pouring in from the many breaks of the buildings structure and as his eyes adjusted he could slowly made out the interior. Dust and sand had built up on the floor and in certain corners; furniture was scarce for there was only a short wooden table and chair. Some cloth that could have once been curtains lay partly buried and partly in rags above the windows. Then he saw a wooden window shutter.

And he laughed because as he watched the brittle shutter moved in the wind and let out a creak as it did. His fears of the shadows disappeared as once again those monsters never came. He relaxed as he strolled into the building. He even went up to the shutter and shook it to make the creaking noise. A calm went through him as he found a sort of peace in the building.

He was not in the open like he was in the street, but safely tucked away in this building. To him the building was a fort like structure that could ward off all his worries. The shadows and their darkness could not enter and no one from the town would ever look here. This he deemed was a safe haven. The boy shook with joy for now he had a place where it was safe from fears, worries, mean people, rejection.

He just needed to make this place his, and with his young mind he knew just what to do. The boy went back outside to the old dusty road and searched the ground. Small hands finally grabbed the desired object before running back into his new 'fort'.

As steady as he could he started to engrave into the clay and sandstone wall with the rock. Careful to not make any mistakes the boy took slow strokes, pausing briefly to blow away any residue with his breath. Gradually the engraving started to take shape. The boy continued until the markings ran deep into the wall.

Then with tired eyes and sore hands he admired his work, and smiled to himself at his accomplishment. However he could not stay here, even he knew that. He had to go 'home,' at least for now.

So with adventures being planned for tomorrow he went back. But all was well, this place was his now. For in straight-lined capital letters was his name, 'GAARA' , and all children know that something is theirs as long as their name is on it, right?

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><p>Hello readers and thank you for reading my fic. This one is my first so please <span>any<span> type of criticism is really helpful, plus some ideas because I'm still trying to decide how this will turn out…oh well I will find a way.

Oh and I am very nit-picky sometimes so please tell me if I misspelled anything!

[1] This I will note seems like a disruption or out of character action to the scared nature of the young Gaara I am trying to portray, but I tend to notice that while young children scare easily, their ignorance and impulsiveness can make them do things they normally wouldn't do. For example, my little sister grabbing an electric fence or going zip lining etc.


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